


Or blow me a kiss (And that's lucky too)

by bookish_changeling



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Awesome Castiel, Childhood Friends, John Winchester's actually A+ parenting, No MCD, Reunion, SO MUCH FLUFF, Severe Burns, Soft Dean Winchester, Tattooed Castiel, also angst, house fire, injuries, teenage years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:41:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23728471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookish_changeling/pseuds/bookish_changeling
Summary: After growing up together, Dean and Castiel finally take a chance at love... until it's brutally snatched away by a house fire that destroys Dean's home, and leaves Castiel on the brink of death.His mother, angry at what she sees as Dean's 'influence', sends him away without a goodbye, and threatens them both unless he'll give up contact.With her taking care of his hospital fares, and unable to get away, he is forced to give in.Biding his time until he can go home, he manages to get a job, and save for the trip.Accompanied by newfound friend Charlie Bradbury, he can finally get out from under Naomi's wings.There's only one problem.When they reach his hometown, the Winchesters are gone.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 3
Kudos: 91





	Or blow me a kiss (And that's lucky too)

The Miltons hadn’t been well liked.

Naomi was just short of haughty, turning her nose up at the neighborhood, talking down to the residents…

As she had said many times, she didn’t want to be in the ‘dump of a place’ any longer than she had to be.

Chuck was… well, he was Chuck. Not unfriendly, per se, but always lost in his own world.

They made no effort in getting to know people.

Their reasoning in being there at all was that Chuck needed a quiet place to write his novel.

So everyone would’ve stayed away from them, most people did, but the Winchesters lived next door, and seven year old Dean had gotten a glimpse at the bluest eyes he'd ever seen, and decided that he was going to be friends with the boy.

-

“Mom!" Dean left the window, bounding down the stairs. “Mom! Some people are moving in next door!”

Mary shut the oven door, smiling at her son. “I know, sweetheart. I talked to Mrs Milton earlier.”

“Can I go over and say hi?”

A hesitant look crossed her face, and she turned to the stove again.

There were two pies cooling, one lemon meringue, and one chocolate.

She selected the former, wrapping a dish towel around it, and pulling paper plates and forks from the cabinet. “Why don’t you take this over to them? As a welcome to the neighborhood present.”

Dean grinned eagerly, accepting the bundle. “They have a kid my age!”

Mary smiled at him. “Mrs Milton told me. Maybe you two can be friends.”

"Can I ask if he wants to play?" Dean bounced on his toes. "He looks lonely."

"Yes, sweetheart." Mary kissed his forehead. "Maybe he needs a friend."

The thought made him hurry through the ritual of putting on shoes and a coat, grabbing something extra, and then racing through the yard to the other driveway.

He knocked on the door, waiting for the sound of footsteps.

They came soon and the door opened, a tall red haired woman blocking the entrance. "Yes?"

"Hi," Dean said politely. "My mom said I could bring you guys this, as a welcoming present."

A stiff smile appeared as she took it. "Thank you."

She turned to go back inside, but Dean moved forward. "Ma'am?"

She stopped, not looking at him. "Yes?"

"I saw someone- maybe my age? Could we play?"

An appraising look swept over him, and she turned back to the door. "Castiel? Come here."

Within seconds the blue-eyed boy from before was standing in front of her, shoulders stiff, and hands by his sides. "Yes mother?"

"The neighbor boy would like to 'play' with you."

He hesitated, keeping his eyes down. "May I?"

Mrs Milton raised her eyebrows. "Stay clean. Do not distract your father."

With that, she shut the door behind her, and the tension leaked out of the other boy.

"Hi," Dean said softly. "My name's Dean. Wanna come play cars and armies?"

The boy nodded shyly. “I’m Castiel.”

“That’s a nice name.” The other wrinkled his nose. “I’ve never heard it before.”

“Dad liked angels,” Castiel said quietly. “That’s why he named me after one.”

“I’m Dean,” he said brightly. “After my grandma.”

The two moved away from the door, Dean leading the way to where his army men were waging a war. "They're fighting over laws and stuff."

"That sounds cool," Castiel poked one of them.. "Which side's the good one?"

"Both of them."

Dean shrugged at the quizzical look. "They're just misunderstood, Cas. They don't know that the other side's good too."

"But then which side wins?" Castiel pressed.

A furrow formed between Dean's eyebrows. "I dunno. They just fight."

The two each picked a side, and the battle began, pebbles flying through the air, and soldiers exploding themselves for the good of their country.

Very heroic.

Halfway through, Dean pulled a small, crinkling package out of his pocket, holding it up with a smile. "I got chocolate!"

The two Generals participated in a brief treaty that lasted as long as the bag did.

Then it was back to war.

Eventually they tired of it, and Dean hopped to his feet. "Race you to the house!"

Castiel beat him.

Red faced and panting, Dean pushed the door open, beckoning him inside when he hesitated. "C'mon! Mom needs to meet you."

Slowly and cautiously, the blue-eyed boy crept inside after his friend.

"Mom! Look!"

Mary looked up, and seeing Castiel, gave him a warm smile. "Hello. What's your name?"

"This is Cas," Dean interrupted.

She gave him a slightly scolding look, and he ducked his head. "Sorry mom."

When Mary looked at him for an answer, the blue-eyed boy gave a small smile. "I'm Castiel."

"Nice to meet you Castiel." She gestured towards the living room. "Make yourself comfortable. Dean, can you check on your brother? Then you can take Castiel to your room to play."

The two headed for the stairs.

When it got dark, Castiel headed back to his house, and Dean watched him go from the window.

“Hey mom?”

Mary knelt beside him, hand coming up to brush his hair out of his eyes. “Yeah?”

“Why is Cas sad?”

His mother lifted a shoulder, smiling sadly. “I don’t know sweetheart.”

“I’ll be his best friend,” Dean declared firmly. “Forever and ever.”

The first day of school came, and Castiel walked to school by himself, his mother already at work.

Not looking forward to the long days without any friends, he dragged his feet enough that he entered the class right as it started.

The teacher waved him to a seat, calling the class to order.

Several minutes passed as she began outlining what would happen that day, and then the door opened again, and Dean and Mary Winchester hurried in.

“I’m so sorry, my husband had an early shift, and the alarm is broken. I’m so sorry.”

The teacher- Ms Sarah, she had told them- smiled, placing her hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. We haven’t started yet.”

She sent Dean on to a seat, the only one open being beside Castiel, and he plopped down eagerly, showing the fistful of green army figurines clutched tightly in his hand. “Mom said I could bring my soldiers. Wanna play after lunch?”

When Castiel nodded, their friendship was cemented, and he could see the happiness reflected in his friend's eyes.

Then Dean bent down, digging through his bag to find a small packet, which crinkled as he brought it out. "Did you like the pie?”

When Castiel nodded, Dean grinned back. “I got you some more kisses."

For a moment Castiel was confused, then he saw the small chocolate drops on the front of the bag. "I love chocolate."

For some reason this made Dean beam wider. "Me too."

They were fourteen when the other kids started picking on Castiel, mocking the way he talked, taunting him about the clothes he wore, and making his life miserable.

He hid it from his friend for weeks.

When it escalated to physical, he avoided Dean on the days when he was bruised, or crying.

Until finally he came home from school one day to find Dean sitting on his bed, holding his backpack.

The one that Alastair and his cronies had taken the week before.

Castiel stopped in the door of his room, eyes wide. “Dean? What- what are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

Dean’s gaze lifted, carefully schooling his expression into a blank mask. “I should be asking you that, don’t you think? Or maybe we don’t tell each other these things anymore. Maybe,” he paused. “Maybe I should be asking what else you’ve hidden from me?”

“What…”

“You know what,” he said sharply. “You didn’t tell me that they were hurting you.”

“Dean, I didn’t-”

“You did though, Cas. You lied to me. We don’t do that. We promised each other.”

Castiel shrugged tiredly. “I didn’t want to tell you because I knew you’d get mad, and try to stop them, and that would get you in trouble, and make things worse for me.”

Letting out a heavy breath, Dean stood, and approached his friend. "C'mere."

Glancing up in surprise, Castiel went willingly into the hug. "I'm sorry, he said quietly.

"'S okay, just tell me next time." Dean pressed a small bag into his hand. "I got you chocolate."

"Kisses?"

"As if I'd get you anything else," Dean teased.

He was seventeen when he had the best possible day of his life, and the worst one, only a day apart.

It was on a hot day mid-July, and he was languishing in the late afternoon heat.

Doing homework.

Fun.

He heard the hurried footsteps several seconds before he saw their owner enter the room out of the corner of his eye.

The bed bounced as Dean flopped down, disrupting Castiel’s careful writing.

The seventeen year old glared at his friend, eyes narrowing in irritation. "I’m trying to work.”

“C’mon Cas. I’m bored, and the movie starts in twenty minutes. I refuse to let your schoolwork get in the way of life, and to let you end up as a hermit that’s only interested in his books.”

“It’s one movie, Dean,” he deadpanned. “I highly doubt that I’ll miss that much. I’m nowhere close to an invalid, and I have no intentions of letting you ruin my grades. Besides,” he added, face falling. “I have to finish before I can do anything else.”

Dean made a face. “C’mon, Cas. Live a little.”

“You live enough for the both of us.”

The dry tone made Dean shoot a playful glare at his best friend. “Dude. C’mon. It’ll be great.”

Cas shrugged. “You know I don’t fit in with your friends, Dean. You’ll have more fun without me.”

Dean’s eyes widened and he sat up, all teasing gone from his expression. “You think that?”

When his friend seemed to withdraw, shoulders raising in another shrug, he gripped Castiel’s wrist. “Cas…”

There was a brief moment of silence with him struggling to find words, then he let out a breath. “Cas, you know that’s not true.”

“Yes it is, Dean.”

“No-” Dean scooted forward, gripping Cas’ other wrist. “No it isn’t. It never has been. You’re my best friend, Cas. Not them. I would pick you over them any day.”

“Why?” The question was asked quietly, with more emotion than he had originally tried for. 

“Because- because you mean more to me. You mean a lot more.” Dean seemed to hesitate for a brief moment before scooting closer to hug him. "Capiche?"

Castiel leaned into it, eyes misting over. "Yeah. Okay."

Dean let the silence hang for a few moments before leaning back, grin bright, but eyes slightly red. "Now will you come with me?"

A small laugh forced its way out, and he dropped his head. "Fine."

When the movie ended, the two made their way out of the theater, parting with the group, and heading home.

Both were quiet, minds elsewhere.

Castiel was wondering about Dean's hesitation earlier.

Maybe he might-

"Cas?"

He jerked out of his reverie as Dean spoke, tilting his head. "Mm?"

"Where's your head at?"

The corner of his mouth lifted in a slight smile. "Firmly attached to my shoulders, thank you."

The laugh made him feel warm inside, and with a sudden burst of courage, he laced their fingers together.

Dean stiffened, but didn't pull away, and he counted that as a win.

"Cas…"

He glanced sideways, finding Dean's eyes fixed on their hands. "Yeah?"

"Do you- are you-?"

"I'm holding your hand because I want to," he said softly. "I can stop if you want."

The hand in his own tightened, holding his hand more firmly in place, and when he looked over, Dean was staring at the ground with a tiny smile.

Two blocks had passed when Dean took a deep breath, and pulled him into an alleyway.

Tilting his head, Castiel ran his thumb over the back of Dean's hand, pleased when it pulled another tiny smile.

"I need to ask you something, Cas," Dean said quickly. "And I really need you to answer truthfully."

"Yeah, okay." Castiel gave him a quizzical smile. "As long as you don't ask me about whether it was me that pranked you on April 1st. You might not like that answer."

It distracted Dean for a moment, he could tell.

"Wait, you- what?" Then Dean shook his head. "Stop distracting me."

He raised his hand in the air, the other trapped still. "Scout's honor."

"You were never-" Dean groaned. "Cas. Please, I'm serious. I need you to be serious too."

He could see by the pleading look that he wasn't just asking for fun.

"Okay," he said softly.

"Okay," Dean repeated. "Okay, uh… I don't know how to say this, it might sound a little weird- do you, I don't know, maybe-"

"I like you," Castiel interrupted.

When that cut Dean's stammering off, he continued. "I have for a long time. I never wanted to bring it up because I didn't want to lose this. I didn't know if you were even- I thought you were straight for our entire lives. I never thought I had a chance, so I never told you."

Shrugging, he raised his eyebrows at his best friend. "Is that what you were gonna ask?"

Dean stared at him in silence, eyes searching his face, tongue darting out to wet his lips, trying to talk but nothing coming out-

"Yeah," he breathed. "Yeah, that's- that's what I was gonna say."

Castiel grinned wryly. "I'm guessing you asked for a reason?"

"Also yeah." Closing his eyes, Dean took a deep breath. "Because I needed a little bit of a push to do this."

"Do what-?"

And then Dean was kissing him.

It was soft, unsure, and all the sweeter for it.

He leaned into it, smiling into the kiss, wrapped his arms around Dean's neck, and stood on tip-toe.

Neither made any move to deepen the kiss, and it took several seconds to pull away.

"Was that okay?" Hesitantly smiling, Dean traced his collarbone with one warm finger.

Castiel hummed. "Should I take that to mean you like me back?" He stared at Dean intently, fighting a smile.

"What- how is that not clear?"

"Well, I mean, not crystal clear." Castiel narrowed his eyes playfully. "Maybe you should run it by me again, just to make sure."

"You little-"

He backed away, grinning. "Yes or no?"

Dean caught up to him, wrapping his arms around his waist, and lifting him clear off the ground. "Yes, you idiot!"

Grinning smugly, Castiel draped his arms over Dean's shoulders. "Do I get to claim a prize?"

"You get a kiss," Dean said brightly.

Instead of kissing him, though, he shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out a piece of chocolate.

"A hershey's kiss, Dean? Really?" He swiped it anyway, kissing Dean before the taste of chocolate was gone.

Both grinning like idiots, Dean put him down, and laced their fingers together again. "So, Cas… be my boyfriend?"

Castiel lifted his eyebrow, bumping his shoulder into Dean's. "Maybe."

"Cas."

"Okay, fine! Yes, I'll be your boyfriend."

That was the best part.

When they reached Dean’s front door, they both paused outside.

Dean took a deep breath. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” 

“Sounds good,” he breathed, grinning shyly.

Simultaneously they leaned forward, wrapping their arms around each other, and letting out matching happy sighs.

“I think this is the happiest I’ve ever been,” Dean whispered.

“Me too.”

“I’ll see you at school, I guess?”

Castiel nodded quickly, trying to push down his ridiculously huge smile. “Yeah, alright.”

With that, they parted ways.

Dean to the house in front of them, and Castiel to the house beside.

The instant he stepped through the door, Naomi was on him.

Startled, he jerked back sharply, regretting it when her eyes narrowed. 

“Castiel, we need to have a discussion.”

He eyed her warily, dropping his backpack by the door. “About?”

“About the Winchester boy.”

Even more cautiously, he straightened. “What about him?”

“You can’t let yourself get attached. We’re leaving soon.”

A pit grew in his stomach, erasing the remainder of the happiness he’d felt with Dean. “What?”

Paying no heed to the anger in his voice, she smiled patronizingly. “Our time here is done. We’ve only stayed for the quiet environment for your father to write, and now that he is finished, we’re leaving.”

“You can’t do this,” he said sharply.

Her eyebrows drew together, and her eyes sparked with anger. “I can, Castiel. This is best for all of us.”

“For you, maybe,” he spat. “Don’t I get a choice?”

“No.”

The one word answer was definitive, but made him angrier. “No. You aren’t going to take me away. I’ve lived here as long as I can remember! This is my home. I’m not leaving. You can’t force me to.”

The blank expression that settled over her face was terrifying. “If you will not cooperate, then I will be forced to… take action.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I have influence, Castiel. I can either make their lives better… Or worse. It’s up to you.”

Horror took root in his stomach, and nausea flared up. “You can’t-”

“I can, and I will. Make your choice, Castiel.”

With that, she swept away, and he darted upstairs to his bathroom.

Falling to his knees in front of the toilet, he vomited.

He didn't fall asleep.

He couldn't.

Calling Dean wasn't an option.

Not this late, and most certainly not while his mother was here.

The more he thought about it, though, the more appealing the idea was.

Giving in, he sent a quick text.

Me: Dean?

Even though his phone was on vibrate, he still periodically checked for a reply.

Most likely there wouldn't be one.

It was already two in the morning, and no self-respecting human being would be awake.

Then his phone lit up, and he felt a surge of relief.

Dean: Hey. Why are you awake?

Me: I don't know

Dean: Everything okay?

Me: No

Dean: Cas? Are you okay?

Me: She's trying to take me away

Dean: What- Naomi? What do you mean?

Me: She said we're moving

Me: Away

Me: Soon

Dean: Meet me outside

Me: I don't know if I can

Me: She's mad

Me: Said I shouldn't be around you

Me: She's still up

Me: Watching for me, I think

Dean: Any way to climb out the window?

Me: I don't know

Dean: Check

Making as little noise as possible, he rolled out of bed, and crept to the window.

There was an outcrop of roofing directly beneath his window, with a lattice that went to the ground.

If he was careful enough, he could make it.

Not bothering to grab his shoes, he pulled on the first hoodie in reach, and opened the window.

He would have to thank his dad for keeping the windows oiled to where they wouldn't creak.

Soon enough, he was on the ground, shivering slightly as he searched for his best friend.

His phone vibrated, and he lifted it, hands shaking.

Dean: Behind you.

He turned quickly, all but throwing himself at Dean, who caught him in a tight hug.

"Hey, hey- it's okay, Cas. It's gonna be okay." Dean pressed a kiss to the side of his head. "We'll figure this out, I promise."

"How?" His voice broke, and he was suddenly very glad for Dean's arms around him. "I can't- I can't stop her, I’m not eighteen yet, I'll have to go… I don't want to leave."

"Hey." Dean's voice was firm. "We'll figure it out, okay?"

Castiel pressed his face against Dean's neck, fisting his hands in the back of Dean's shirt, and didn't answer.

"Cas?"

Dean's voice was definitely worried now, lowering to a soothing tone. "Hey, I need you to breathe, okay?"

He was breathing- wasn't he?

"Cas! Breathe, okay?"

Dean kept up a steadying litany of reassurances-

"You can do it, just breathe with me, like that- yeah, okay, you're doing good-"

-until he could breathe again, past the heavy weight of panic sitting low in his chest.

"Hey." Dean brushed his thumb over Castiel's cheek. "You good?"

When he nodded, his boyfriend let out a relieved breath. "Okay. How about we go somewhere else, yeah?"

Castiel hummed noncommittally, burying his face in Dean’s shirt.

"Is that a yes, no, or maybe?" Dean moved back slightly, smiling gently. "We could also just go to my house and cuddle?"

Oh.

He definitely liked that option.

At his pleased little noise, Dean smiled again, leading him back toward the house. "Alright then. Cuddles it is."

The front door was unlocked, to let them in, Dean explained.

He held tight to Dean's hand, following mutely as he led towards the back bedroom.

They were both already in pajamas, and it was a simple matter of taking off jackets, and curling up in the pile of blankets that smelled like his boyfriend, and almost instantly made him exhausted.

It didn't help that as soon as they were settled, Dean started singing softly, and that paired with the warm arms around him, calmed his heartbeat, and put him on the brink of sleep.

Before he could fall completely, he forced his eyes open again. "Dean?"

The humming stopped, and Dean pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Yeah?"

"Don't wanna leave," he said tiredly, barely legible in his sleep-thickened voice. "Love you."

Dimly, through the fog of sleep, he heard Dean chuckle softly. "Love you too sweetheart."

Loud banging woke them up, followed by Sam's voice.

"Dean! Breakfast’s ready!”

They heard his footsteps disappearing downstairs, and Castiel rolled over, tucking himself back under Dean’s arm. “Don’t wanna get up.”

“I know, sweetheart.” Dean pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll go get us both some food, okay? I can be really quick.”

“No,” he mumbled. “I’ll go with you.”

He had the right to be clingy, he told himself.

There was a good reason for it.

A spark of worry flashed in Dean’s eyes, and he dropped his hand to lace their fingers together. “Okay.”

There was no way of Mary knowing he was there, but there were four plates on the table when they reached the dining room.

Her and Sam were already sitting down, and their eyes immediately went to Dean and Castiel’s intertwined hands, but neither mentioned it.

Dean let go of his hand to serve himself a plate of gravy biscuits, but almost immediately took it again.

They ate silently, Mary glancing occasionally between them, but she didn’t say anything until they were done.

Then she clapped her hands together, dropping her elbows on the table. “Spill.”

It only took a few seconds for him to break, and he repeated Naomi’s words from the night before.

When he was finished, Sam’s eyes were wide with concern, and Mary was trembling with restrained fury.

“I’m a minor,” he said dully. “I can’t stop her.”

“Surely she can’t make you-” Sam said softly. “Not when you’ll be eighteen in seven months…?”

“She said-” Castiel started, but stopped.

He couldn’t tell them what Naomi had threatened.

“Said what, Cas?” Dean leaned closer, squeezing his hand.

“If I didn’t cooperate-” the words stuck in his throat.

I can’t tell them, or she might find out and do it anyway.

“She said she didn’t approve.” When Dean tilted his head, bewildered, he let out a breath. “Of us.”

He could hear the worry in Dean’s voice. “She knows?”

“Not about us being together, no.” Looking down at his hands, he swallowed tightly. “She doesn’t approve of me or you. Your ‘influence’ as she put it.”

“Dean, how about you two go to town, alright? Maybe see a movie?” Mary pushed her chair back, putting her hands on her hips. “I’ll need to check something out.”

Though still panicked about the whole thing, Dean managed to take his mind off of it.

After paying for tickets, Dean pulled him through the door, and led him to the back of the rows of seats.

In a stroke of luck, no one was in there except for them, and when the lights went off, and the movie started, it was their own little world.

Minutes into the movie, Dean tugged him closer, lifting the armrest in order to adjust his position. “Cas, c’mere.”

Tilting his head, Castiel scooted closer, only for Dean to shake his head, and prod him to his feet.

At this rate, they’d never finish the movie, so he let his boyfriend maneuver him around.

He only realized what Dean was doing when he held out his arms with a teasing smile.

A blush rose in his cheeks, but he sat down anyway.

On top of Dean.

“Relax,” Dean whispered. “Let me cuddle you.”

Slowly, he did as told, leaning into Dean’s embrace, and resting his head in the crook of his shoulder.

It didn’t even feel weird, just comfortable.

He adjusted his position slightly, bringing his arms up to wrap around Dean, pressed against the back of the seat, and let out a breath.

“Better?”

He could feel the vibrations of Dean’s voice against his forehead, and wasn’t lying when he nodded.

They spent the entirety of the movie in that position, and he didn’t catch a single scene.

Even after the credits rolled, they sat in those seats, not wanting to move.

It was only when the janitor came in that they left, still holding hands.

The summer air was warm after the air conditioning, and they walked slowly back.

Then their peaceful, happy bubble was shattered by the wailing of a siren, and a firetruck sped past.

They watched it turn the corner, and Castiel turned. "You don't think-"

Dean shook his head mutely. "Come on."

They were still blocks away when they saw the smoke pouring into the sky.

It was Dean's house.

Firefighters were filling the yard, and neighbors crowded the sidelines.

Dean swore, cutting across the lawn.

The two raced past bystanders, ducking past outstretched arms that tried to pull them back.

Three firefighters were fighting with a struggling John Winchester, Sam tucked against his side, the man still trying to go inside.

His mouth opened in a silent scream, and Castiel suddenly understood.

Mary was still in there.

Dean darted forward, trying to burst through the fence of bodies, but they held him back.

“It’s too unstable!” Someone yelled. “It’s going to come down any minute!”

And Castiel saw an opening.

Right there, a gap in the bodies, and he took it.

Regardless of Dean's scream of "Cas- No!"

Arms reached out, catching at his shirt, but he ducked inside.

The air was hot.

That was the first thing he noticed. 

Smoke filled his vision, and he headed for the kitchen.

It must've been where the fire started, and where it was worst.

Flames hissed and crackled.

His vision tunneled.

Find Mary.

Mary should be in the living room, straight through the kitchen.

Find Mary.

She wasn’t there.

The living room, full as it was with smoke and flames, was empty.

Find Mary.

Barely glancing into the rooms as he passed, he hurried to the stairs.

Already flames were licking at the bannisters, and he hissed as his hand hit the hot wood.

Flames weren’t so prevalent upstairs, but the smoke was thicker, sending him into a coughing fit as he stumbled up the steps.

“Mary!” He yelled between coughs. “Mary!”

Sam’s bedroom was empty, and he turned back to the stairs, and Dean’s room beyond it.

A closed door caught his eyes, and he shoved his shoulder against the bathroom door, twisting the knob.

The door burst open, and he heard a stifled yell coming from outside at the same time that he saw Mary curled on the floor.

Her eyes were closed, and he ducked under her arm, lifting her into his arms, and suddenly, irrationally, thanking Bobby for the summers working at the auto-shop that made him able to carry her.

Her eyes fluttered open, dazed, but she made no resistance.

The stairwell was encased in flames.

No.

Windows.

They could get out the windows.

In the few minutes he’d been in the bathroom, the entire upstairs had gone up, red and orange flames licking along the walls.

His mind was foggy, and he couldn’t think straight, but he knew he had to get to the windows.

Windows.

Get-

Windows.

He fumbled with the latches for several seconds, gasping for breath, and slumped against it.

He couldn’t hold them both up anymore.

Every breath rasped in his throat, pain shooting through his body-

Get out get out get out-

With one last desperate burst of strength, he shoved his shoulder against the glass, and was rewarded by the shattering panes, and a burst of air.

“There they are!”

Castiel slammed his palms against the remaining shards of glass, not caring about the ragged mess his hands were becoming.

As soon as the window was mostly clear, he shot a quick glance through.

The sill was hot under his hands, and he darted a glance over the edge, relieved to see a ladder being carried over.

He ducked back inside.

He couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t breathe-

Mary wasn’t even conscious at this point, and he crumpled to his knees, gasping harshly.

Please please please pleasepleasepleaseplease

He lifted her almost to the window, where hands reached in to help, grabbing her, pulling her through to the ladder-

And he felt the floor give in under him.

I don’t want to die.

The high-pitched beeping woke him.

Although it wasn’t waking, not really.

Maybe he was still dreaming.

“Please, Cas- please wake up.”

Dean.

His boyfriend sounded like he was crying.

“Please. I need you.”

A dull tingling spread over his body, and the beeping sped up.

Faintly he heard a panicked voice, then hurried footsteps.

Then he was gone again.

“Mom’s okay. Just a few burns, and smoke inhalation.”

Deep mechanical breath.

“The doctors said it could’ve been worse. Would’ve been worse, if it wasn’t for you. Sammy is asleep outside, and Dad’s visiting Mom. We’re all worried. You’ve flatlined twice already.”

Deep breath.

“It’s- it’s really bad.”

Deep breath.

“Your back got it the worst, but-”

Deep breath.

“I’m scared, okay? I don’t- I don’t wanna lose you.”

Deep breath.

“So fight, okay? Don’t give up. The nurses said you might be able to hear us talking to you, so please… please fight. Don’t you dare give up.”

Deep breath.

“Please.”

He didn’t wake suddenly. It was a slow return to consciousness.

The room was dark, only a lamp casting shadows into the corners of the room.

The first thing he felt was pain.

He couldn’t move, and he was laying slightly propped up

His back- didn’t hurt.

Maybe it did, and he was just on medication, but it certainly felt like he should be in a lot more pain.

Everything did hurt, yes, but only slightly.

Mostly he was numb.

The second thing he noticed was that he was abnormally calm.

He should be freaking out, but instead he was laying here calmly cataloguing his pain levels.

Third, he couldn’t see.

His eyes had something over them, it felt like some type of cloth.

Fourth was that he wasn’t alone.

He could hear breathing, along with the rustling of pages being flipped.

He could smell something soothing, it smelled like-

The door opened, and a nurse bustled in, and his question was answered.

“How’s he doing, Mr Winchester?”

John?

Then his question was re-answered.

“Please don’t call me that, ma’am. It’s Dean.”

“Alright. How’s he doing?”

“No change.”

She sighed. “You really should get out for a bit. It’s not good for you to sit here day in and day out.”

Dean’s voice hardened. “I’m not leaving him.”

“Okay, alright.”

They were silent for several minutes as the nurse bustled around him, checking the monitors.

Then…

“I think he’s awake.” A hand slipped into his, and the nurse spoke again. “Castiel? Can you hear me? One squeeze for yes, two for no.”

He forced his hand to move, to squeeze, one.

“Good, all right. Do you remember what happened?”

One.

“All right. Do you know where you are?”

He hesitated, then…

Two.

“You’re in Lawrence General ICU. Your family is here, okay? I need to go get Doctor Milton, and I’ll be right back.”

Her hand slipped away, replaced with one that he knew.

Dean.

The door shut. 

“Cas? Can you- can you hear me?”

One.

“O-Okay. God, I’m glad you’re awake. I was-” his voice broke. “I was so worried.”

He didn’t know how to answer that, so he didn’t.

It was the wrong move though, and Dean squeezed tighter.

“Cas?”

He squeezed once.

There was a sigh of relief.

“Okay, sorry. I thought- maybe-” a huff of air. “Anyway. Are you- are you hurting?”

One.

He could feel sleep pulling at the edges of his mind, and gripped tighter, struggling to stay awake.

“Cas? Are you-?”

And he was gone again before he could hear the rest of the sentence.

The second time he woke up, he was in a different room, and his mother was there.

“Mom?”

She gave him a tight smile. “Hello Castiel.”

“What- what happened?”

Giving a sniff, she stood up. “The doctors will explain everything.”

They did, and he hated them for it.

His back had gotten the worst of it- he vaguely remembered Dean saying that- and needed skin grafts.

He had been too weak for the surgeries, and had been transferred from Lawrence to a burn center in California.

Dean and his family weren’t going to visit- ever, Naomi insisted- because it was their fault he was hurt, their fault he chose to run into a burning building.

“Dean was always a bad influence,” she insisted. “You’re well-rid of him.”

She had forbidden him from trying to call, or text, or any conversing at all.

She even took his phone.

He had no way of knowing their number, because they had lived one house over all their lives, and had no need for phones

He had Dean's number in his old phone, but hadn't memorized it, and now he wished he had.

Hated himself for not trying harder.

Without money, or transportation, he was stuck.

His boyfriend was gone.

His best friend was gone.

No matter what he said, no matter how hard he pleaded Naomi kept her stance firm.

She gave him a compromise.

If he would stop resisting, and not try to contact them again, she would send an anonymous donation to help rebuild.

The Winchesters didn't have a lot in the first place, and would be struggling.

He accepted.

But that didn't mean he gave up necessarily.

"Castiel!" The call came from behind him. "Cas! Get your butt inside! It's the dinner rush, and we're packed."

He turned, glaring playfully at his friend. "Charlie, I swear- you know I got off at twelve today."

"Okay, yeah," the redhead puffed, slinging her arm through his. "But I got news."

"Do tell."

"We finally have enough!"

"Wait," he spun, forcing her to stop. "We do?"

She squealed excitedly. "Yes! We can get you back to your lost love!"

Shaking his head exaggeratedly, he grinned. "Great. Get packed for a road trip."

The diner looked the same.

Harvelle’s Roadhouse.

Bustling, loud, and smelling of the best food in Lawrence.

He said as much to Charlie, who laughed. "I can't wait to try everything."

All in all, it felt like home.

It was as noisy inside as it was outside, more so even, and he headed to the bar, slinging his bag down to rest under his seat.

The server was a certain blonde that he knew quite well, and as soon as she turned to get his order, her eyes tripled in size, and her mouth dropped open.

The glass in Jo's hand, thankfully empty, dropped to the floor with a crash that was drowned out by her shriek.

“Cas!”

She was across the space in a second, almost strangling him with the force of her hug.

"Where’s your mom?”

She jerked a thumb over her shoulder, eyes red, but shining with happiness. “Making burgers.”

“Can you tell her to fix an extra large one for her favorite customer?”

With a shaky nod, Jo backed into the kitchen, not taking her eyes off him.

Minutes later, the kitchen door burst open with the force of an enraged mother bear, and Ellen swept out, headed straight for them.

Before he had time to react, he was being yanked into another hug that was, impossibly, tighter than Jo's.

"Hey," he said softly. "What'd I miss?"

The two women all chimed in with news from the past two and a half years, excitedly talking over each other. 

"How's Dean and his family?"

They stopped talking suddenly, Jo ducking her head.

"Ellen." His voice was dangerously calm. "What happened?"

"They're gone," she said softly. "They moved. Didn't have enough to rebuild, and didn't have enough to send Sam to school, and Dean to college. Dean dropped out to work, Mary and John were staying with Bobby Singer, but I haven't heard from them in nigh two years. I don't know where they are now. You might could try there."

She wrote the address down, handing it to him with another hug. "It's mighty good to see you, boy. We were all torn up when you left."

"I didn't exactly have a choice," he said bitterly. "I was unconscious."

"I know."

It was decided that Charlie would stay there, and Castiel would continue by himself.

He made it to Singer's garage before closing the next day.

A bearded man sat on the front porch, watching him as he approached.

"Are you Bobby?"

"Depends on who's asking," he said gruffly. 

"I'm looking for John and Mary Winchester?"

Bobby raised an eyebrow. "Who are you? And what business do you have with them?"

"Castiel, sir. I'm Castiel Novak."

In an instant his demeanor changed, and he sat up. "Come again?"

"I'm Castiel. Dean's-" boyfriend "-best friend. I grew up with him-"

"I know who you are, Castiel. Come on in."

The interior of the house was neat, if a little dusty, but felt lived in. 

"John's out back working. I'll get Mary."

Bobby disappeared, and Castiel stepped to the living room.  
He sat on the couch, hands twisting uncomfortably into his jeans, taking in his surroundings.

A gasp drew his attention, and he turned to see Mary in the doorway, hand over her mouth. "Castiel?"

He straightened, smiling softly. “Hey.”

The breath rushed out of his lungs in a gasp as she crashed into him in a tight hug.

“We were so worried,” she said quietly, voice shaking. “Then your mom took you- and we didn’t-”

“I know,” his chin rested on her hair. “I would’ve come sooner, but… well, there were complications.”

She pulled back, eyes searching his face. “Are you okay?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Mostly.”

“Mostly? What’s that supposed to mean, mostly?”

“It means until last week, I was still in rehab, physical therapy, and counseling.” He smiled softly. “I’m okay, though. Really.”

Her eyes widened, and she drew in a sharp breath. “How is your back? I know that’s where you got it the worst…”

“I’m fine, Mary. Okay? I’m alright, promise.”

He lifted his shirt slowly, revealing where the scars would be, if not covered in ink.

She drew in a sharp breath. “You covered them?”

Smiling wryly, he dropped the shirt. “Yeah.”

Footsteps drew their attention, and John stepped in. “Castiel?”

“Hello sir.”

John stepped forward, pulling him into another tight hug. “Don’t sir me. You’re one of my boys too.”

Castiel smiled shakily, ducking his head. “Thank you.”

“No,” John rested his hand on his shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze. “Thank you. You saved my wife. I can never repay you for that.”

“You could point me in Dean’s direction,” he suggested.

A warm smile spread over John’s face, and he nodded. “I can do that.”

The two men stood by Castiel’s car in a strange sort of silence.

John had something to say, he guessed.

He had that habit of biting the inside of his cheek that Dean did when he wanted to ask something.

“Castiel… were you and Dean… together?”

Castiel looked up, raising his eyebrows. “What?”

Undeterred by the sharp question, John continued. “Dean… he said a few things that made me think there was something going on between you two.”

“Yes,” he answered honestly. “We were together. Is that a problem?”

Shaking his head, John smiled wryly. “No. I’d be a bad father if that bothered me. I just wanted to know. Dean, he- he never went out with anyone. After you disappeared, he was a wreck for months. Even now he refuses to go on dates, or anything. I’m pretty sure he’s still trying to find you.”

Still trying to find you.

Castiel opened his door, sliding into the seat. “Thank you again. I’ll be sure to stay in touch this time.”

He made it to the town by eight o’clock that night, stopping at a bar in order to grab a bite to eat before continuing to Dean’s apartment.

And fortune smiled on him when he heard a familiar voice.

“Hey, no- sorry, I don’t-”

His head shot up.

Dean was at the other end of the counter, smiling tightly at a blonde woman leaning down, showing the view of her… plentiful… cleavage.

“C’mon, handsome. I can show you a good time.”

He shook his head. “Sorry, I’m not interested.”

Eyes narrowing, she swept away in a huff, hips swinging.

Dean rubbed his hand over his face, picking up his drink to take a sip. 

The waitress came over, blocking Castiel’s view, and smiled politely. “What can I get you?”

“Could you do me a favor?”

She tilted her head. “Depends on what it is.”

“Take this-” he shoved his hand in his pocket, pulling out a crinkling bag. “-and give it to the guy over there. Green eyes, plaid shirt.”

“I don’t think he’s interested,” she said slowly. “He turns everyone down every time he comes here.”

“I’m not trying to- no, I know him. Please?”

“Okay,” she shrugged. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

She moved away, pausing in front of Dean.

He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he saw Dean’s reaction to the candy.

The instant he saw the bag, his eyes widened, and then the waitress gestured back to where Castiel was sitting.

He could’ve cried when he saw Dean staring at him, eyes full of shock, and joy.

“Cas?” Dean mouthed.

A grin spread slowly over his face, and he shoved his chair away from the counter, moving quickly toward him.

Rising, Castiel met him in the middle, hugging him tightly.

“Hey,” Castiel laughed wetly. “It’s been a while.”

“A while?” Dean laughed in disbelief, pulling back enough to see him fully, but not enough to let go. “A freakin while? You disappeared, man! I didn’t know if you were okay, I didn’t know if you were even still alive. What the hell happened?”

“A lot,” he said quietly. “Mind if we take this somewhere else?”

Dean nodded quickly. “Yeah, yeah, just- let me settle my bill. Don’t move.”

Smiling wryly, Castiel shoved his hands in his pockets. “Got it.”

It took only a few seconds, and Dean was back.

Castiel paid his own bill, and Dean grabbed his hand to pull him out the door.

He didn’t let go.

Not thinking anything of it, Castiel matched his pace.

Even when Dean glanced over at him, squinting in the sunlight, he just met his gaze with a soft smile.

It should’ve been awkward, but it wasn’t.

It felt right.

Dean’s hand was warm, dry, and fit perfectly in his own.

“Where-” Dean began. “Where- what happened? Where did you go?"

Castiel glanced sideways, a sad smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “My mother happened.”

The reaction was immediate, Dean pulling him to a stop. “What- your mother?”

“Yes. She was… angry. That I had run into a burning building, but refused to think of it as my fault, putting the blame on your family. And everything that happened before...”

He could feel Dean’s disbelieving stare on him, but couldn’t seem to look up.

“She was very angry. Said if I didn’t “cooperate” she’d take extreme measures. She was… incensed, and insisted that it was your bad influence that had me acting like that.”

A smile tugged at his mouth when he heard Dean snort a laugh at his air quotes.

“Since when have I set that kind of example? Running into a burning building?”

He could hear the undercurrent of tension in his best friend’s voice.

“You haven’t. It was entirely my hare-brained idea. I was an idiot.”

“You saved my mom,” Dean interrupted. “I’d say that’s far from idiocy.”

Castiel squeezed his hand. “It was stupid." He grinned slightly before letting it fall. "I don’t regret it though.”

Glancing sideways again, Dean let out a heavy breath. “Do you have a car? Or do you… want a ride, maybe?”

“I borrowed Charlie’s car,” he said softly. 

“Charlie…?” Dean’s hand tightened minisculely. “Is she- are you-?”

Somehow he knew what Dean was trying to say, and gave a small laugh. “No, she’s- in her own words- the Queen of the Gays. She came on this trip with me, but volunteered to stay behind in Lawrence. I think she may like Jo.”

“No way,” Dean breathed a huff of a laugh. “Jo’s straight!”

“Not for long, Charlie assured me.”

“So,” Dean began. “Are you taking her car?”

“It has all my stuff in it,” he said softly. “But-”

“Would you wanna ride with me?” Dean broke in, voice hesitant. “We can grab your things.”

Castiel let a tiny relieved sigh slip out. “Yeah. That’d be great.”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, or anything. I just don’t want to let you go quite yet.”

“No, I don’t-” he gave an embarrassed smile. “I don’t want to let go either.”

The words pulled Dean’s mouth into a smile, and he ducked his head. “Baby’s parked over beside the building.”

They didn’t speak through the transfer of belongings, communicating mostly through glances, and small touches.

It was still unfamiliar ground, and even if they had been best friends all their lives, and boyfriends for a few days, their glances held a wariness, that maybe this wouldn't work out, that maybe they had moved on.

The apartment was only a few minutes away, and Castiel didn't say anything when Dean took his hand again, merely giving him a smile.

He had done more smiling in an hour than he had in three years, and yet he didn't find it strange.

Dean made him happy.

That was all that mattered.

Whatever happened, however they felt, whether friends or together, he had always been the only one who made Castiel truly happy.

“Cas?”

The voice startled him out of his thoughts, and he glanced up quickly. “Hm?”

“You look like you’re thinking deep thoughts over there,” Dean said softly. “Mind sharing with the class?”

He brought his legs up under him, resting his arms lightly on his knees. “Just happy.”

“Happy, huh?” Dean shot him a warm glance before returning his gaze to the road. “Really?”

“For the first time since I left Lawrence.”

“We’ve got a lot to talk about, huh?”

Castiel nodded heavily, closing his eyes. “How far away is your apartment?”

Dean reached over, taking his hand again. “Just a couple blocks.”

He hesitated. “Is this-” holding their hands up “-okay?”

“If it wasn’t, I’d have stopped you.”

His best friend seemed to relax, letting out a relieved breath.

Soon enough they were pulling into the parking lot of a tall building, gray and dreary looking.

“It’s not much,” Dean murmured. “But it’s home.”

Each of them took a bag, with Dean slinging his own duffle over his shoulder, and leading the way up the stairs.

The door swung open with a quiet creak, and Dean flipped on the light.

Contrary to the outside appearance, the inside of Dean’s small apartment was well-decorated, and the scent of freshly baked pie filled the air..

Probably apple, he guessed.

Sure enough, when Dean led the way into the kitchen, there was a pie on the counter cooling.

“I went to the bar for dinner,” Dean explained. “I was gonna save the pie for dessert.”

Castiel returned his smile, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “You still bake all the time?”

“It’s like you don’t even know me,” Dean laughed softly, before his smile fell, and he coughed awkwardly. “Sorry, I didn’t-”

“Don’t worry about it.” Glancing sideways, Castiel ran his hand over the counter. “You look like you’ve done pretty well for yourself.”

Dean bent down to grab something from a drawer, and straightened, holding a small bundle. “I guess. It’s not bad. Only missing a few things.”

Castiel tilted his head slightly. “And what would that be?”

Letting out a long breath, Dean met his eyes. “There’s a lot we need to talk about. Living room’s this way.”

They both settled on opposite ends of the couch, watching each other in a tense silence.

“I don’t want it to be like this,” Dean stated softly. “I don’t want this awkward silence, and the weird feeling of this being not completely right, and for that to stop we need to be completely honest. Got it?”

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he met Dean’s gaze. “Got it. Twenty questions?”

Dean laughed softly, pulling his knees to his chest. “Deal. You first.”

“What is your life missing?”

With a quick, steadying inhale, Dean met his eyes. “You. My turn. When we came back to the hospital, you were completely gone. No trace. What happened?”

Castiel drummed his fingers on his cheek, staring down at the cushion. “My mother had me taken to a burn center in California. She took my cell phone, which was of no use anyway, because I never learned your number. We had no need for phones when he lived beside each other. She made sure none of my letters got through, and-” he faltered, hands shaking. “Said she wouldn’t keep paying for the ‘best care money could buy’ if I didn’t stop being stubborn, and trying to contact you.”

Glancing up, he noticed the tense line of Dean’s shoulders, and almost wanted to keep the next part from him.

But he had promised honesty, and so he continued.

“When that didn’t work, she made a deal with me. If I gave up trying to contact anyone from our old life, she would donate to help your family rebuild.”

“That’s where it came from.” Dean shook his head disbelievingly. “We would’ve been fine, Cas. We wanted you back more than any money. Insurance covered most of it, and what it didn’t, people chipped in from around town. Ellen and Jo, all the people in our neighborhood, the grocer, even the mailboy. Bobby chipped in, we were fine.”

Castiel shrugged. “I needed to be sure.”

“Okay.” Dean took a deep breath. “Keep going.”

“I pretended that I’d stopped, to placate her, but I never did, really. As soon as I was cleared for non-strenuous activities, I got a job. Took a while, but I saved enough to leave completely, and not rely on her anymore. I met Charlie, who helped me get an apartment, and took care of me on the really bad days. I don’t know what I would’ve done without her. She took me to doctors appointments, made sure I took my meds, and kept me fed. I owe her a lot. With all the bills, I didn’t have enough to come back yet. It took forever, it seems like, but we finally had enough, and we drove down a week ago. Ellen sent me to Bobby’s, where I saw your parents, who sent me this way.” He dragged in a breath. “I did my best to come back to you.”

“I know,” Dean slid forward, hands taking Castiel’s. “I know you did. Can I-?”

Somehow he knew what Dean was asking, and it was the one thing he’d wanted for years, so he nodded quickly, and then he was being wrapped in warm arms.

It felt like coming home.

They still fit together, even after three years, and he could feel the walls breaking, letting out his pain.

With a jolt of realization, he felt wetness on his cheeks.

He was crying.

If the wetness on his shoulder was any indication, Dean was too.

"It's okay, Cas." Letting out a breath, voice shaking, Dean held him tighter. "I know, it’s okay.”

It took several minutes for the tears to cease, and in that time, neither moved an inch.

“Sorry,” he said softly, still not pulling away. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Nope.” Dean cut in, voice brisk. “No apologizing. Hey, look at me.”

Their eyes met, and Dean smiled gently. “I cried just as much as you. I’ve known you forever, okay, so don’t get all embarrassed on me. Your turn for a question.”

“Right.” He took a deep breath, pulling every ounce of courage he possessed. “Your dad, he said- he said that you never tried dating, after… He said he thought you were- waiting? For me?”

A split second of shock flickered through Dean’s eyes before his shoulders slumped, and his eyes closed. “He wasn’t- yeah. He wasn’t wrong.”

A surge of relief washed over him, and he leaned forward to take Dean’s hand. “Are you- still?”

Dean glanced up at the hopeful tone, brow furrowed. “I’ve always been right here, waiting for you.”

A trembling smile spread over Castiel’s face. “Can I kiss you?”

Green eyes widened, and instead of replying, Dean leaned in, meeting him halfway.

His hands came up, one cradling the side of Dean’s face, one on the back of his neck.

The first gentle press of their lips was perfect, sending happiness through his veins like a drug.

Dean was the first to break the kiss, pulling back, and leaning his forehead against Castiel’s.

Both just breathing in each other’s presence, neither moved, neither spoke, happy and together again at last.

Finally breaking the silence was the sound of a phone ringing.

Recognizing it as Charlie’s ringtone, Castiel reached over the edge of the couch, finding his backpack, and answering the phone.

“Hey.”

He listened for a moment, then-

“Yeah yeah, I was gonna call you before- no I know- okay. Okay, Charlie. Just- calm down. Yes, I found him, no I haven’t figured that out yet- look, I promised I would, now please stop asking. Yes, he’s here.” Castiel huffed an irritated sigh, turning an apologetic on him. “I’ll ask, okay?”

Covering the phone speaker, he smiled ruefully. “She wants to talk to you.”

Dean made a grabby-hands motion towards the phone. “I’ll win her over, promise.”

He relinquished the phone, watching as Dean’s expressions changed to match his words.

“Hi.”

A pause, silence.

“Yeah no, not gonna happen. I can promise you that. Dude, I’ve known him for way longer than you, if anyone should be saying that, it’s me…”

Castiel took Dean’s hand, feeling him squeeze reassuringly. “No, I’ve been looking for him for three years, I’m not about to let him go again.”

“Yeah. Yeah. No worries. I’ll take care of him.”

Handing it back over, Dean grinned smugly. “Told you.”

“Charlie?”

“Yeah no, okay. I approve. He’s got the official seal of approval from one Charlie Bradbury.”

“Great, thanks. I need to let you go. I’ll text with updates, okay?”

“See you two lovebirds later.”

“Yes, your majesty. Bye.”

“She’s… sweet,” Dean said carefully.

Shooting him an amused glance, Castiel tossed the phone onto the coffee table. “Complete honesty, remember?”

Dean glared playfully at him. “Fine. Sheesh. She’s very excitable. Loud, enthusiastic, protective… Want me to keep going?”

“Nah.” He smiled softly. “I’d rather continue our conversation.”

“The non-verbal one?”

Castiel smiled briefly before his expression sobered up. “I just want to be close to you. If that’s okay.”

“More than okay,” Dean murmured. “C’mere.”

Within seconds they were settled, curled around each other the way they had in their first real date at the movie theater.

“I missed you.” Pressing his face into Dean’s shoulder, he took a shuddering breath. “I missed you so much.”

“Right back at you,” Dean pressed a kiss to his temple. “How is your back?”

Castiel shrugged lightly. “Great.”

Dean pulled him closer, voice heavy. “That bad, huh?”

“Not really.” Castiel gave a tiny smile. “I am fully recovered, except for the scars.”

“Can I see them?” Dean traced the collar of his shirt. “If you don’t have a problem with it, that is.”

He shifted uneasily, dropping his gaze, and Dean noticed it, hands stilling. “Was that insensitive? Sorry, I wasn’t- I didn’t mean-”

Castiel cut him off, squeezing his hand gently. “I know, just- anyone who saw them was disgusted, and so “-’ he faltered, eyes burning a hole in the leg of his jeans. “I covered them.”

“Covered them meaning…”

He looked up, forcing his face to remain emotionless. “Tattoos. I tattooed over them.”

Dean’s face went through a rapid barrage of emotions, settling on concern. “Do you- you don’t like them?”

“I hate them, Dean,” he said hollowly. “I don’t regret going after your mother, but I hate the way people stare if I wear a T-shirt, when people see the scars on my neck, and hands, and arms, and they look at me with disgust. Even after I got them covered, I hated that feeling. I don’t want you to- to see it, and…”

“It won’t change anything, Cas. I promise.” Dean scooted closer, bringing his free hand up to curl around the back of Castiel’s neck, resting their foreheads together. “I love you, okay? And that isn’t going to change, no matter what you look like, I swear.” He was relieved to see the worry fading from his best friend’s eyes. “Capiche?”

“Yeah. I capiche.” Castiel dropped his hands to the hem of his shirt, toying idly with the fabric before taking a deep breath, and unbuttoning his shirt, and letting it drop from his shoulders.

Dean was silent for a beat too long, and he twisted around to see his expression. 

Instead of the revulsion he’d been expecting, there was awe prevalent on Dean’s features.

“It’s beautiful,” he whispered.

Castiel tensed.

It wasn’t what he had thought Dean would say.

When he stayed quiet, Dean glanced up at him briefly before staring at the tattoos again.

Dark feathers swept across the entirety of his back, curving over his shoulder blades, and around his upper arms, trailing his sides, and stopping at the waist.

“They’re beautiful,” Dean repeated. “Are they angel wings?”

Nodding slowly, Castiel relaxed a bit. “I thought it was appropriate, seeing as I was named after an angel.”

Warm breath gusted over his shoulders as Dean leaned closer, bringing his hands up to trace the dark lines of ink.

Castiel stiffened, and Dean noticed, pulling his hands away. “Sorry, I didn’t- sorry. I should’ve asked.”

“You just surprised me,” Castiel said softly. “It’s- it’s fine. You can touch them.”

He sucked in a breath as Dean’s fingers rested lightly on his shoulder blades, moving gently over the raised skin of his scars.

Not once did he pull back, disgusted, and angry, but rather mapped the whole of his back, gentle, and unhurried.

When he was finished, he leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Castiel, and clasped his hands together in front of them, pulling him back to lean against Dean. “I love you,” he whispered. “So much. I always have. And these scars are anything but repulsive to me. They show how brave you were. Running into a burning building, saving my mom, you didn’t even hesitate. The firefighters hesitated, Cas. They were too worried about the stability to take the risk, but you did. I’m so proud of you. For everything. Getting away from your mother, making your own life, for trusting me with this… I look at you, and I am so, so happy that I got you back.”

Several seconds passed, Castiel drinking in the comfort he hadn’t realized he needed.

“I love you,’ Dean repeated. “I’ll tell you that as many times as it takes to sink in, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

Castiel turned his head, pressing closer. “You too,” he mumbled softly, too soft to be heard, so he repeated it. “I love you too.” He felt Dean’s breath catch, and he pressed his lips to the side of Dean’s neck. “I do.”

“I know,” Dean whispered back. “I know sweetheart.”

They stayed silent for a while longer, content in their small bubble of peace.

Castiel jerked awake.

He hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep, but the clock showed it was late at night.

Early morning, really.

Dean was awake, though.

He looked down as Castiel stirred, squeezing him tighter. “Hey sleepin’ beauty.” The corner of his mouth quirked upward.

“Hey,” he whispered back, voice croaking with sleep. “You should’ve woken me up.”

“I could’ve,” Dean agreed. “But you’re pretty cute when you’re asleep.”

He tried to glare, but based on the way Dean chuckled, it didn’t have the intended effect.

“You looked peaceful,” Dean shrugged softly. “I figured you didn’t have a lot of opportunities to relax, so I thought I’d let you sleep.”

Castiel rolled over, pressing his face into Dean’s stomach. “But now I don’t wanna get up.”

Dean smoothed his hand over Castiel’s shoulder, and he realized he still wasn’t wearing a shirt.

“I have to get up, though,” he said grumpily. “What are the sleeping arrangements for tonight?”

For the first time since he’d arrived, Dean flushed slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I only have the one bed. We could share, if you don’t mind, or I could take the couch-”

Castiel cut him off with a tired smile. “Sharing is fine.”

They took turns in the bathroom, getting in pajamas, and ready for bed, and then headed to Dean’s room together.

“Which side do you usually take?”

Dean shrugged. “It alternates depending on the night. I don’t have a preference. You?”

“I usually take the outside.”

Nodding, Dean climbed in first, flopping down on the pillow. “I don’t know about you, but I’m tired.”

“That’s your fault,” Castiel quipped. “Should’ve taken a nap instead of watching me sleep.”

He dropped down with more finesse than Dean, and turned on his side. 

They watched each other in silence, something which they often did.

Nothing needed to be said at the moment, and so they didn’t.

“Can I hold you?” Dean asked suddenly.

Castiel let out a relieved breath. “I was hoping you’d ask,” he admitted, moving closer. “Little spoon or big spoon?”

“Big.”

He rolled over again, pulling Dean’s arm over his waist, and scooting back into the warmth. “Good.”

Dean huffed a soft laugh. “I always loved holding you, whenever you’d let me.”

“I always wanted you too,” Castiel said honestly. “I worried you might find it strange, though, so I didn’t ask.”

“We’ve got a lot of time to make up for, then.”

Silently agreeing with him, Castiel laced their fingers together. “We can talk more in the morning,” he took in a deep breath. “There’s still a lot to talk about. It can wait though. Good night, Dean.”

“Night, Cas. Love you.”

“I love you too.”


End file.
